


Grow For Ages

by fkcliam



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Fake/Pretend Relationship, M/M, Past Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson, Sad Conflicted Liam Payne, post-Zayn era
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-09-27
Updated: 2015-09-27
Packaged: 2018-04-23 16:54:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,468
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4884472
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fkcliam/pseuds/fkcliam
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>An aborted fake-relationship fic (Or, is it possible to be in love with two people at once and not hurt one or both of them?)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Grow For Ages

“Liam? Liam, you ready?” Louis raises his eyebrows and grins, giving Liam a quick flash of his not-quite-white teeth.

Liam looks around. They’re alone, in some abandoned field near a hotel. He vaguely recognizes it. They wrote here, some odd months ago, just them and the dry grass, crunching as Louis kicked against it.

 _Ready for what?_ “Ready for what?” he asks, distracted by the way the wind, from somewhere behind him, blows the hair away from Louis’s forehead. He wishes Lou would grow his hair out again. Liam loves it long, pulled away from his face. He wonders if -

“Let’s go! Let’s go let’s go let’s go!” Louis is suddenly shaking him, and for a moment Liam hates him. Hates the constant jiggle of his legs, the constant movements in his bones, always so close. He likes it in their little field, surrounded by the dying grass. He doesn’t want to move.

“No Louis, I’m warm here,“ he insists, petulant. He’s interrupted by Lou’s affectionate giggle, and just like that, he’s awake.

Just like that, every slight pull of annoyance leaves his body. He opens his eyes to the darkened hotel room, shaded from the sun by thick curtains pulled tight across the windows. And then his eyes settle on Louis, different from the one in his dreams. This Louis looks tired, every exhausted muscle in his body working against the exuberance that used to come so naturally to him. These days, it’s forced. And every so often Liam catches him with his guard down, catches that smile that drops too easily off his face.

“Last day, mate! We got the early flight out and then we’re free,” Louis says, and carefully removes himself from Liam’s bed to go mess with his suitcase.

Liam groans, and then immediately feels ashamed. He’s actually been dreading this day, not wanting to return home to that looming feeling of guilt. He loves Sophia, and he loves the quiet mundanity of their short weeks together. But he’s constantly questioning himself, second guessing everything he says to her. Can she tell he’s holding back, that he’s trying too hard? She’s so clever, she’d have to notice.

Louis gives him a sharp look.

“Get out of your head, Li, it’s only for two weeks. C’mon. Let’s get packing.”

“I’ve already packed -,“ Liam begins, before noticing that his suitcase has been upturned. He grins on impulse at the sight - it’s really a tradition at this point. But he remembers his carefully folded shirts and whines, “Lou, sometimes it’s just unnecessary.”

Louis pouts at him before turning towards the door.

“One more thing,” and he smirks, “I’ve got something to tell you. I’ve been talking to Zayn, and I have a plan.”

And with that, he slips out the door. Liam groans again, and falls back on his pillow.

————-

Liam has probably been on upwards of two hundred flights. And honestly, it could be four hundred. Or five. He’s never been good with numbers. But this one is different. Because on this one, Louis actually leaves him alone.

At first, he’s relieved. He sets up his backpack, plugs in his phone. Looks out the window a bit, thinks about maybe taking nap, then remembers he got up two hours ago. And what a rude awakening it was. After maybe ten minutes, he starts looking around for Lou. He can see Niall, already nodding off a few seats over from him, iPad abandoned on his chest. But he can’t find Harry either, and a familiar fear strikes in his chest. It’s one he hasn’t felt for a long time, since those days of him silently vying for Louis’s attention during X Factor, counting the minutes Louis spent with him versus the ones with Harry.

He weighs his options. Going to look for Louis might seem desperate, and he wants to make sure that he doesn’t come off as too needy; but at the same time, Louis is constantly following him around, poking at Liam’s every move. He reminds himself that Louis just likes people’s attention, that it’s nothing to do with Liam. He pushes away the familiar what if he likes me-likes me? thought and glances around.

“Niall,” he hisses, “Niiiiiall.”

Niall twists around groggily and sits up, knocking the iPad to the floor.

“Wuh?” he asks, blinking slowly.

“Have you seen Harry?” Liam fidgets with his hands, and adds hesitantly, “Or Louis?”

“Uhh… no? Maybe they’re gettin’ food? Wait, actually, I think Harry was gonna lie down in the back. Neither of us got more ‘an three hours last night.”

He smiles easily at Liam’s thanks, and then settles back down into his seat again.

Liam tears down the cramped aisle to the back of the plane, well aware of how unnecessarily quickly he’s moving. What if they're making out? Liam shakes the thought away, and slows his pace as he gets closer to the source of Harry’s snores.

When he sees Louis, he feels like his heart is going to break into two, clean halves. Louis is sitting there on the seat across from Harry, still as can be, watching him sleep. He’s got a gentle look on his face, just content to be in the presence of Harry’s ugly snoring. When he hears Liam approach, he looks up at him, and an earnest smile spreads across his face.

“Li,” he whispers, quiet and warm. “Look at him. We have to get him to shave that weird half-mustache. It’s god awful.”

Liam takes a deep breath, and lets out a small laugh.

“If anyone can convince him, Lou - “

“- Oh I can absolutely convince him,” Louis agrees. “As a favor to all of you ungrateful boys.”

“All of me and Niall?” Liam asks, and then immediately regrets it when he sees Louis’s smile fade, just an inch, but enough.

There’s a brief silence, as Liam watches Louis work up the energy to renew his grin. When he does, he stands up decidedly.

“You ready to hear my plan? It’s Zayn-approved. Kinda.” Liam rolls his eyes, and then gives his usual nod of assent.

“Fabulous,” Louis continues. And then he takes one last look at Harry’s sleeping form, and drags Liam back out into the hall.

—-

Liam grows more and more nervous when he notices how secretive Louis’s being. First, they can’t talk in the hall, because “Someone might overhear! You have to think, Liam!” And then Louis won’t allow them to delay the conversation until they’re off the cramped aircraft, because “This is urgent, Liam, have you seen Harry’s mustache?”

Liam sighs. “If you want to shave it, now would be a good time. He’s unconscious.”

Lou shakes his head, frustrated. “No. I have an idea.”

He then proceeds to pull Liam into the tiny, two by four, plane bathroom. Liam has to screw up his face in concentration to avoid the prevailing thought of, _plane sex plane sex people have sex in plane bathrooms._

“Liam,” Louis says sternly, “you have to listen. This is important. This concerns me. This concerns me and my current relationships with existing boyband members.”

Liam tries to ignore the implications of that statement, and asks, “Is this gonna be like the time we pretended to be Niall’s grandparents on the phone? Because I love you Louis, but I think he was actually getting upset - ”

“That’s what I mean!” Louis crows.”You love me! Right?”

Liam thinks distractedly that if he turned around to look in the mirror right now, he’d be able to see his heart actively attempting to leap out of his chest. He swallows hard.

“Yeah. I mean - of course.”

“Great!” Louis exclaims. “I mean, obvious, yeah, but great! Because, and listen close now, young Liam, because I believe I’m still in love with one Harry Styles.”

He looks at Liam expectantly, eyebrows raised in question.

Liam clenches his eyes shut for a moment, trying to prepare his body for the emotional damage that the following conversation is about to cause him.

“…right. Right, yeah, I see that.” He looks down at the plastic flooring, wondering if he’s being punished for something.

“Well, I’m not just going to sit here and pine uselessly after him!” Louis exclaims, incredulous at the idea. Liam kind of wants to kick him in the face.

“I …okay?”

“Okay, well I have a great plan to win back his affections so that we can live happily ever after… again. But like, actually ‘ever after’ this time,” Louis smiles self-mockingly. “You and me are gonna date! And then he’ll be jealous!”

He holds out his arms in flourish, as much as he can in the cramped stall.

Silence.

Liam stares at Louis. He waits. He can tell Louis is actually beginning to get kind of nervous underneath all that cockiness, not used to Liam not being enthusiastic about his ideas.

“Li?” Louis prompts.

“You’re gonna… what? He’s gonna think that we’re…that I’m… um. No. I’m not doing that.”

“Liam! Liam?” Louis looks genuinely mystified at Liam’s rejection.

“I just know how these things go!” Liam splutters. “Like you know, in the rom-coms? You pretend to be in love and then you actually fall in love… and um, I’m not doing that!”

Louis actually laughs out loud.

“No offense mate, but I’m never falling in love with you.” He smiles at Liam ruefully, and shrugs.

 And this is worse. This is so much worse. Liam tries to force out a strangled laugh, but it comes out as more of a whimper.

“I know. It’d be like dating your brother. Or your cousin. Actually, cousin probably, because you can be attracted to your cousin but not… never mind. Less creepy I mean.” Liam winces. He’s making this worse.

“Whatever, bro. You in?” Louis looks so, so hopeful, and Liam can feel himself cracking under the weight of those bright eyes.

“There’s …Sophia,” he offers, weakly.

“Just explain it to her, yeah? It’ll probably be funny from her end.”

Funny? This is a bad idea, a bad bad idea. There is no way Zayn approved this, even from all the way in London.

“I…”

“C’mon Leeee…” And he’s whining now. Christ, if only he would shut up, and stop looking at Liam like that. And maybe back away a couple inches, just to be safe. He can feel Louis’s hands tugging at him, looking for affirmation, and Liam knows what he’s about to do.

“I …yes.” He shakes his head at himself even as the words come out, but Louis only laughs.

“Yes! Thank you, love you, bye!” Louis quickly kisses him on the forehead and darts out of the bathroom. Liam only hangs his head, wanting to avoid his own reflection in the mirror.

 _You fucking idiot_ , he thinks.

—

“You’ve done _what_??” Harry is absolutely incredulous.

Liam only agreed to this 15 minutes ago, and yet here they all are, gathered in Harry’s impromptu bedroom at the back of the plane. It had all happened much too quickly, and he’s starting to panic at the reality of what’s unfolding before him. Helpless, he’d watched an impatient Louis run straight from the bathroom to wake Harry up by shaking him gently on the shoulder, and then Niall by way of a punch to the chest.

Louis is milking Harry’s reaction.

“We’re dating now. Because we’re in love. And that’s what you do when you’re in love,” He grins at Harry, who only looks more confused. “Date. You date when you’re in love,” Louis clarifies.

When Harry turns to make a disbelieving face at Niall, who is lounging on the floor behind them, Louis makes a sneakative thumbs up in Liam’s direction. He looks overjoyed. Liam continues to quietly stare at his feet, feeling small. He feels 17 again. And not in a good, Zac Efron, kind of way.

Niall only looks considerably between them, face uncharacteristically solemn.

He focuses on Liam.

“Have you told Zayn?” he asks.

“Sure,” says Louis, pouncing on the question. “We’ll call him right up.”

“No,” Niall clarifies, not even glancing at him. “I was asking Liam. Have you spoken to Zayn about this?”

Liam reddens. He knew that Niall knew. He probably has for years. He shrugs, shakes his head.

“I mean c’mon,” Harry interjects, “where did this even come from? And Liam, what about Sophia? You haven’t even come up with a proper backstory for this. Usually your pranks are —”

Louis looks frustrated. “It’s not a prank! Liam’s my best pal!”

Liam, despite himself, smiles broadly at this.

“Pal,” Harry emphasizes. He quiets, and leans toward Louis, “Is this directed at me? Some sort of payback for something I ended over two years ago? Louis, you don’t have to - ”

Louis stands up abruptly, dragging Liam with him, something flashing in his eyes that Liam’s never see directed at himself.

“You’d like that wouldn’t you?” Louis bites out, face red. “Maybe you can’t accept that I’m actually moving on!”

Harry shakes his head slowly and starts to leave. “Okay Lou.”

“Fuck. _Fuck_ you always have to be so fuckin’ non-confrontational don’t you? Slow-talking, easy-going Harry Styles, can’t be tied down to —”

“Louis,” Liam warns, quiet. But Louis hears him and whips around to face him, eyes huge and lost.

Harry only looks sad, emotions clearly written on his face. There’s that insecurity only Louis can bring out in him rising to the surface.

“Okay,” he says again, carefully, and finally leaves. A worn-out looking Niall follows him.

Liam would have as well if Louis weren’t still holding tightly to his wrist.

_____

(Louis, as always, is ignited by the conflict. He smiles at Liam, manic, and flies out the side gate, tapping paparazzi heads as he goes. Liam stays behind Paddy, holding Louis’s coat and helplessly, hopelessly entertained by him.

Paddy glances at him when he hears Liam’s stifled laughter. He follows Liam’s gaze easily to Louis, and grunts. “He’s gonna cause some real damage any day now, I’m telling ya.”

Liam nods happily, all faux romances and airplane drama forgotten. “I think that’s what he wants,” he confesses.

He watches as Louis turns his head back, quickly, to make sure they're watching. He beams when he sees Liam’s laughing face, eyes squinting upwards, happy to entertain. Liam freezes the moment in his head, and it plays slow and radiant in his mind as he climbs into the cab.)  
______

Two days later, Liam has settled, somewhat uncomfortably, into his vacation. He and Soph had made the decision to stay at home for the duration of the break, thinking Liam had done enough traveling.

He was stretched out onto the couch, more tired than he was used to, when Sophia called from the kitchen.

“What kind of meat on the pizza?”

“You ordering something?”

“Nope. Homemade. You’re lucky to have me, Payne.”

Liam laughs, and then groans. Sophia comes into the living room, frowning, balancing packages of bacon and pepperoni.

“What?” she asks, “One kind of meat not enough?”

“No I feel bad, babe. I haven't moved off this couch in two days and now you’re making me food.”

She smiles down at him. “If that’s what makes you feel bad, you got a pretty good life there, Liam Payne.”

He grins back at her, wondering why he’s always so hesitant to come home.

“Anyway,” she continues, “I’ve decided. We’re doing sausage.”

_______

“Did you know Amara’s a lesbian?” Sophia asks later, looping strings of cheese back onto her slice.

“Who?”

“Danny’s sister? Pink hair? Remember when we went to that club and her friend was DJing? Turns out, that’s her girlfriend.”

Liam carefully picks up another piece. He admires how the sausage and the vegetables are evenly spread out, the red and green bright against the yellow of the cheese. He’s hungry.

He looks back up at his girlfriend and comments, “We should go to that club again. They had a popcorn machine.”

“Liam,” she says, “she’s been dating men the whole time I’ve known her. And now, all of the sudden, boom, lesbian.”

Liam considers this. “Y’know, I don’t think I know any lesbians. I know gay people though, I reckon.”

Sophia rolls her eyes. “Your best friend is gay, Liam.”

Liam looks down, poking at his plate. This a topic they’d never gotten into, and one he wanted to avoid. He moves a green pepper over a little, so it’s a perfect distance from the sausage. He admires his artwork, and shrugs.

“I dunno, he’s never said anything.”

“You don’t have to when you’re dating men. He doesn’t exactly have to clarify.”

“He’s not dating men! He dated one man. And then he dated El.”

“I thought he and Eleanor were just friends. Because, y’know, he’s gay.”

“He’s not - You can be both! You can be bisexual.” Liam knows the word. Liam has, himself, done research and learned the word, experiencing a strange validation when he repeated it over and over to himself as he’d gone throughout his day.

“I know that, I’m not an idiot. But he just isn’t. And, back to my original point, Amara isn’t. She told me last week.”

“Where did you see Amara?” Liam asks, relieved to be out of dangerous territory.

Sophia begins to answer when a sudden shout makes them both jump.

“Honey! I’m hooome!” And that’s Louis’s voice, and that’s the door slamming behind him. Liam wonders how he even got in, he’s doesn’t remember giving him a key. It’s more likely Louis just took one.

Sophia raises an eyebrow from across the table, and Liam shrugs sheepishly. “I didn’t invite him.”

“Bullshit,” Louis announces, striding into the room, “I assume there’s always an open invitation. Anyway, it’s dinner time.” Eyeing the pizza, he kisses Sophia on the cheek, “Sophia, darling, this looks marvelous, you’ve outdone yourself.”

She laughs, swatting him. “Fine, you can eat, but stop talking like you’re my husband coming home from work in the 50s or something.”

Liam giggles, forfeiting his chair over to Louis, and gets up to drag one over for himself. When he pictures this scenario, caught between Sophia and Louis, he usually feels trapped by them, by the guilt. But here, in the flesh, he’s happy just to be between his two favorite people.

He looks back and forth at them, grinning.

“Stop looking so happy Liam, you’ll kill us both,” says Louis, shoving pizza into his mouth. Liam smiles wider, leaning forward to shove his grin into Louis’s face. Louis laughs, and pushes him away with greasy fingers, getting tomato sauce all over Liam’s cheeks.

Liam, inspired by this, flicks some sauce at Louis’s nose. Louis squawks, indignant, and reaches for the salt shaker to retaliate.

Sophia snatches it away from him. “I’m going to intervene before this place turns into a Pollock painting or something.”

“Pollock?” Liam asks.

“C’mon Liam,” Louis sighs, just as Sophia says, “He’s an artist, babe. Like splatter paint?”

Liam nods, and continues to eat. When he realizes Louis is still looking at him, he makes a questioning face at him.

Lou rolls his eyes. “Have you told your girlfriend our exciting news yet?”

“What news?” Sophia asks.

Now Liam feels caught. “Uh,” he says, “I thought that was over? Like a quick prank? I tend to think, y’know, with pranks, the quicker the better?”

“No!” Louis shakes his head at him. “Liam, you’ve got to learn, when it comes to pranks, you’ve got to be persistent. Everyone’s skeptical now, but —”

Sophia punches Louis in shoulder. “Can someone tell me what’s going on?”

“Ah,” Louis says, and gestures to himself, “Meet your boyfriend’s new boyfriend.”

Sophia laughs at this, carelessly, easily. Liam knows, because he’s watching her reaction closely. The idea of Liam being Louis’s boyfriend is so outlandish, so out of the question, so obviously fake, that she laughs. Liam’s resigned to this. He thinks, _me too, babe. Me too._

“How’d you get tricked into that one?” She’s leaning towards Liam, teasing, wrapping her legs around his ankle under the table.

“I resent that question,” Louis scolds her, “Liam always does my ideas. Right Li?”

Liam shrugs, still playing footsie with Soph. “He told me Zayn had approved it. Complete bollocks.”

“Well,” Louis says lightly, reaching for the last slice, “Got you paying attention didn’t it?”

Sophia steals the pizza from under his fingers, and smirks at Louis when he protests.

“Okay,” she says, “But like, why pretend to be dating? What’s it for?”

Louis pauses at this, and Liam knows that Lou’s not really comfortable talking about Harry with people outside his bandmates, and maybe his mum. The scope of people who know, or at least suspect, is shockingly large. But it’s not something Louis ever mentions outside the five of them.

So Liam, like the good friend he is, replies with the first thing he thinks of: “We’re trying to fool Niall.”

Louis, nods, proud of him, which somehow makes lying to Sophia worth it.

But she, blunt as ever, asks, “and Harry?”

“It’s an added bonus if he falls for it too,” mutters Louis.

She raises an eyebrow. “And what’s the bonus?”

Louis falters.

Damn, Liam thinks again, she’s too clever. But Sophia’s perceptive, she’s recognized that she shouldn’t have mentioned it now. She seems surprised too, usually Louis can take the teasing.

Louis gets up to clear the dishes - and probably to escape - with Liam following him. As he’s leaving, Liam quickly turns around to give an encouraging smile to Sophia’s apologetic face. He hopes she doesn’t feel too bad about it, he can't console them both at the same time, try as he might.

“Louis —” he starts, once they reach the kitchen.

“Zayn wants you to ring him.” Louis says, not even turning around as he loads up the dishwasher. “Niall said. I haven’t spoken to him me self, but, yeah. Niall said.”

_____________

Zayn picks up straight away. “It’s not true, is it?”

Liam sighs. He’s managed to burrow himself into Sophia’s closet, which is really almost a room of its own at this point. The danger of being interrupted by Louis is probably pretty low, but he just can’t risk being overheard.

Zayn breathes down the line, waiting for an answer.

Liam shifts his weight so he’s not crushing Soph’s shoes, and is briefly glad Zayn isn’t making them Skype. He doesn’t want to have to look him in his over-compassionate eyes.

“No,” he finally says, “It’s not true. Just one of Louis’s pranks.”

“That’s what I thought.”

When Liam doesn’t respond, Zayn adds, “Sorry.”

“Don’t be,” Liam says softly.

“He’s there isn't he? Ni said he looked a mess. Are you somewhere you can talk? Liam? You alone?”

“He’s at the house, yeah. But not like, next to me. Actually mate, I’m sat in Sophia’s closet.”

Zayn lets out a laugh, and Liam closes his eyes. Speaking to Zayn, he always gets the inexplicable feeling of homesickness. There’s something comforting about him, there always has been, that’s been lost by the distance. Liam lets the feeling swell inside his chest, and breathes it out.

“Miss you,” he confesses.

“Miss ya,” Zayn smoothly replies. Liam wonders again if the feeling could possibly be mutual. He expects Zayn doesn’t experience the same feeling of abandonment that he and the other boys do, doesn’t experience the same strangeness as touring with only four members. Liam remembers Harry’s analogy for it: missing a limb, he’d said.

Liam nods to himself. He misses that limb. Zayn would probably be the head if he were a limb, Liam thinks, and then he and Louis would be the hands. Niall and Harry…

“Is the head a limb?” He asks Zayn, who’d probably been lost in his own thoughts on the other end of the line.

“Nah,” Zayn says, as if he’d been expecting the question. “Just arms and legs.”

“Oh,” says Liam, disappointed his analogy has been discredited.

“Do you want to talk about it? About Louis?”

“Do you think they’ll get back together?” Liam blurts.

“Harry and Louis?”

“Yeah.”

_“Harry and Louis?”_

“Yes!”

“No. No, mate, you saw them, at the end. Louis angry, and Harry broken. And then Harry off with his mates, and Louis broken. It was fucked, really. You remember.”

Liam shook his head, “But they're still - at least, Louis’s still —”

“It doesn’t matter,” Zayn cuts him off. “It’s not like that anymore. They were kids. They’re too different now.”

“But _Zayn_. Zaynie. He’s trying to get him back.” If Liam’s voice breaks, he thinks it’s justified.

Zayn softens at this. “Who, Louis? I don’t think he will, babe. I don’t think it’ll work.” He lets out a small, sad laugh. “Christ, you two. Only happy when you’re pretending to be happy for each other.”

“Hey,” Liam whispers, thinking that’s not quite right.“I’m happy. I’m happy, Zayn. With Sophia.” He wishes he sounded more sure of himself. “When it’s just me ’n her, I am. But when it’s me and Louis…”

“Yeah,” Zayn says, understanding. If Liam is never sure of anything else in his life, he’ll be sure of that: Zayn understands.

“You reckon it’s possible to be in love with two people at once?”

Zayn considers this. “If it’s not, you’re a living miracle.”

A silence sets in between them, that familiar exchange of breathing over the line. This kind of silent conversation is only specific to Liam’s relationship with Zayn — he couldn't go more than a second with Louis without one of them blathering on about something.

Louis.

“You need to speak to Louis.”

Zayn pauses. “Liam,” he says, gentle, “honestly, it’s been weeks.”

“You still need to speak to him. He’s your - he’s your bro, right?”

“Yeah,” and Liam knows Zayn’s smiling. “But we have like, a different relationship than you and me. Or you and him for that matter.”

“We have a very different relationship than me and him,” Liam observes, and they giggle together.

“I’ll talk to him sometime, honest. Just, we’re taking a break I guess. He’s so stubborn.”

“You’re both stubborn.”

“Am not!” Zayn sounds scandalized, and Liam laughs.

They fall silent again, and then Liam says, “I guess I’ll go find him then. Set him up for the night. I really don’t know why he’s here, to be honest.”

“You’re his boyfriend,” Zayn teases, and laughs when Liam threatens to hang up the phone. “And he’s upset I guess, about Harry and all.”

Liam closes his eyes, hating that he’s always choked up at the end of these talks. It’s nearly as bad as talking to his mum.

“Miss you,” he says again, before starting to stand up from his cramped position.

“Miss ya,” comes the easy, automatic reply.

__________________

“Smithers!” calls Louis from the living room, “Why d’ya only have season nine of Friends? Sorry, let me rephrase, why is the only DVD you have of of this 10-season show the worst one? Are you one of those people who think Rachel and Joey should have ended up together?”

Liam laughs at him from the kitchen, but Sophia only shakes her head in exasperation beside him.

“It’s 2015, who even relies on DVDs anymore?” she asks Liam, who only grins happily back at her. She calls back to Louis, “Fuck, Tommo, just watch the reruns on telly or something.”

“But I wanna pick the episodes!”

“Is he our child?” Sophia demands of Liam. “When did he become our child?”

Liam wrinkles his nose at the idea, and reminds her, “If you want him to go, he’ll go. If he even gets the slightest idea you don’t want him here, he’ll be gone.”

“I know. I want him here. I’m sorry. I just thought, like, this was our week. This was our vacation! Liam, I’m dating an international pop star - you’re always gone. I only see you a tiny percentage of the time Lou does.”

“You getting jealous?” Liam jokes, but feels ten different kinds of guilt at her words.

“Well, fuck, Liam, you are dating him, aren’t you?” She teases back.

And they laugh, and Liam wonders when he got so good at faking it.

_____________

“Ack - _fuck_.” Something crashes in the corner of the room.

Liam sits up in bed, blinking in the darkness. He squints his eyes at the blurry figure. “Louis?”

“Yeah. Shit, sorry,” he says, sounding sheepish, “Did I wake up her up?”

Liam gestures at the empty space beside him, and when realizing Louis can’t really see, clarifies, “She’s still out with the girls.”

“What time is it? If you say 10 I might cry. Christ, Li, when did we become old men?”

Liam laughs, and checks his phone. “No it’s all good, it’s 2 in the morning. Why are you up?”

“Couch is bloody uncomfortable. Liam, you realize you’re a multi millionaire who lacks both a guest room and decent furniture?”

Liam smiles at him across the room, his eyes finally adjusting to the dark. He knows better than to remind Louis that they weren’t prepared for nor were they expecting a guest.

“We just moved in, mate,” He says instead. “The future guest room’s empty, and as for the couch - I think it’s more about how it looks? The designer did it all, I dunno. Soph’ll probably refurnish the place.”

While he’d been talking, Louis had taken the opportunity to climb into the bed, clearly not too interested in the answer to his own question. Liam would be uncomfortable with him there if it didn't happen so often.

“‘G’night Payno,” Louis manages a few moments later, muffled into the pillow.

“Night Tommo,” he whispers back, and retreats back down into the blankets.

________________

He wakes up completely entangled with Louis, which isn't as rare an occurrence as it should have been. Liam breathes in the scent of him - smoke, sweat, and expensive cologne - and lets the shame well up inside him.

Shame, shame, shame. He wonders, where did Sophia sleep last night? Is she stuck on their awful designer coach? Did she come home late, half-drunk, and have to look at the sleeping form of her boyfriend curled up with someone else?

And when was the last time he smelled her hair?

He’s being dramatic - Sophia’s hair smells like her lavender shampoo, he knows that. Because it’s well washed, unlike the head of hair currently sprawled onto his chest. And he treasures that sweaty mess. Not because he loves Louis more, he assures himself, but because it’s been awhile since Louis had climbed into his bed. Absence makes the heart grow fonder and all that.

He breathes Lou in one last time, and then sits up abruptly, knowing that Louis will be cruelly knocked off him. Maybe a wrestling match will develop.

Louis makes a shocked noise as he’s jolted from sleep. “You absolute bastard,” he groans. He drags himself into a seated position on the bed and gives Liam a light punch in the chest, clearly too groggy for any real play fighting.

“Good sleep, babe?” he asks, trying to fix his hair from the mess it’s become.

“Yup,” replies Liam cheerfully. The shame’s subsided, because Louis looks very soft as he rubs the blurriness away from his eyes.

When Louis finally focuses on him, he grins fully at Liam. The moment plays slowly in Liam’s head. Louis’s eyes squint up. He looks happy, looks content - Liam has the urge to ring Zayn, to send him a picture of this moment. No one’s faking happiness here, he’d say. He recognizes the glint in Louis’s eyes, the bloom in his own chest that only grows when Lou leans over and gives him a smacking kiss on the forehead, before finally getting up and padding away.

Liam follows him out into the living room, heart sinking a bit when he sees Sophia sprawled across the sofa. He glances at Louis, who also looks kind of guilty, before going to wake her.

“Good sleep, babe?” Liam asks, shaking her, before realizing she’s probably a bit hungover as well.

“Fuck off,” she moans, swatting at Liam’s arm.

Louis leans against the wall behind them. “Sorry, Soph,” he offers, sounding genuinely apologetic. “Thought you’d crash with a friend, honest. Shit house guest, I am.”

“Make it up to me with food,” She orders, raising her head off the cushion to address him, “No. Actually, do coffee. Maybe throw an aspirin in.”

Louis nods, and takes off.

Once he’s gone, she sits up fully. She looks at Liam, considering, and finally says, “Congratulations. You two have taken your relationship to the next level.”

Liam’s eyes go wide, thinking, _she knows she knows but there’s nothing to know_ , until she laughs at his expression.

“Calm down Liam, I’m kidding. Now help me up, there’s coffee waiting for me.”

____________________

Liam relaxes considerably after this, and spends the rest of the morning throwing cereal into Louis’s mouth from across the counter. He laughs when Louis misses a toss, and he laughs when Louis catches one. The game, unsurprisingly, dissolves into more of an excuse to throw cereal at one another.

Sophia intrudes halfway through, announcing she’s going to the gym.

Liam pauses pelting Louis with food to smile at her. “Okay babe. Love you.” He resumes the attack, Lou cackling when he catches it.

She doesn’t move. “Is that all?”

Liam glances at her again, confused. “Oh, don’t worry, we’ll clean this up.” He beams, thinking that’s what she meant.

“No, I mean, don’t you want to come? You should at least leave the house, you two have been cooped up for days.”

Liam glances at Louis, silently consulting him. He wrinkles his nose in response. “Nah, we’re good,” Liam translates to Sophia. “See you later, babe.”

She shrugs, and turns to leave.

“Bye Smithers!” Louis calls after her.

He hits Liam in the face with a Cheerio.

_______

When Sophia returns two hours later, they haven’t moved.

“Okay, okay,” Liam is saying, “Stick out your tongue for this one. Oh! And muss up your hair.”

“Leemo, I cannot _believe_ you just said that to me. To my face!”

Liam laughs. “Okay, okay, fine,” he concedes. “Leave the hair.”

Sophia drops her gym bag on the counter. “What are you two doing?”

“Taking funny pictures.”

Louis demonstrates, Liam laughing dutifully.

“Have you not moved? Oh Christ, I’m starting to sound like your mum, aren’t I?”

Worried she’s upset, Liam puts down his phone and jumps off the counter. He moves toward her, wrapping his arms around her neck.

“Well, _mum_ , I’m taking you out to dinner tonight. You name the place, we’ll go.”

Sophia makes a face. Louis, too, behind them, makes a disgusted sound.

“Did you just call your girlfriend _mum_?” He demands, incredulous.

Liam flushes, and backs away from Sophia. “No, it was just, like, a play on what she said about —”

“Am I coming?” Louis interrupts. “To your romantic night out?”

“Yeah, Liam,” Sophia turns to him expectantly. “Is Louis coming to our romantic night out?”

“Of course!” Liam smiles widely at Louis, who grins back. Sophia looks a little insulted.

“Great,” Louis says. “I’ll call a cab.”

“Let me get changed first.” Sophia looks between them. “For whatever this is.”

_______

“Liam,” Louis hisses across the table. “Help me.”

“What’s wrong?”

“I can’t find my shoe.”

“What?”

“I kind of kicked them off - there’s a tablecloth!” He protests at Liam’s shocked expression. “No one could see! And now I can’t -” He makes a frustrated noise, ducking under his chair to check again.

Sophia’s laughing at him. “Louis,” she says, gently. “We’ve been here maybe five minutes.”

Louis scowls at her. “ _Liam_ ,” he says again.

“What am I supposed to do about it?”

“Fix it,” Louis whines.

Liam looks around, making sure no one’s looking, and slides under the table. He comes up a moment later, holding a scuffed up sneaker in one hand. Both Liam and Louis beam at the shoe, and then at each other.

“What a heroic man!” declares Louis, taking the sneaker back.

Sophia looks skeptical. “How hard did you look before?” she asks Louis.

Louis shrugs. “Wouldn’t of mattered. These kinds of mysteries, only a man like Liam can solve.”

Liam giggles, and Sophia pats his shoulder. “I’m very impressed, babe,” she tells him.

There’s a lull in the conversation, and Louis begins kicking at Liam under the table with his newly reclaimed shoe.

“Ow!” Liam complains, smiling.

“None of that,” Sophia chides. “Tell me something about the tour. Or traveling. C’mon, I’ve been stuck at home for months. You went to Australia, didn’t you?”

“Yes!” says Liam eagerly. “We went surfing.”

“All of you?”

“Me and Louis. Right Lou?”

Louis looks up from where he’s shredding his napkin. He nods, smirks. “Do you remember that guy —“

Liam collapses in laughter, nodding enthusiastically. “Soph, you have to hear this —“

“He was fully clothed—“

“—he was wearing jeans, even!”

“—just surfing along, as if that was a perfectly normal thing to be doing—“

“—must have been 35 degrees out, as well.”

“—in soaking wet socks—!” And then they’re laughing too hard for her to comprehend anything.

She raises her eyebrows. “Wow, surfing in clothes,” she drawls.

Louis slows his laughter. “Sorry, Soph. One of those had-to-be-there things, I guess.”

She shrugs. “I guess.”

By the time the food arrives, Sophia and Louis are deep in a debate regarding Game of Thrones, and she and and a very tuned out Liam are holding hands under the table.

“Sorry, Tomlinson. I just don’t think it’s all necessary.”

“It’s not like they’re making it out to be a good thing. Same with the violence and all, you don’t do a rape scene because you want to, you do it to show that the women are being abused or whatever.”

“You can communicate that without a brutal rape scene every three episodes…”

Liam isn’t really listening, and he reaches for Louis’s plate. Louis, as usual, has carefully set aside the lettuce and the onions from his burger, and Liam automatically piles them onto his salad. When he looks up, Sophia is watching him, looking bemused.

“You want an onion?” he offers her. She politely declines.

Liam hopes Louis doesn’t feel excluded, doesn’t feel like a third wheel. He keeps holding Sophia’s hand, because he’s afraid he hasn’t spent enough time with her lately. He looks carefully at them both. They’re eating; they look pretty content.

Liam focuses on his salad. Eating a salad one-handed is unexpectantly difficult.

He looks back up at them, his best friends. “What’s Game of Thrones about?” he asks.

_____________

Louis orders the check, and after taking a final swig of Liam’s water, he leads them out of the restaurant. Liam swings his and Sophia’s arms, their hands joined in the middle.

Louis walks backwards as they head towards the street, facing them. “Movie night?” he offers.

“No Louis,” Liam says patiently. “I’m tired. _You’re_ tired.”

Louis is tired. On the cab ride home, he falls asleep, head sprawled in Liam’s lap. Liam looks down at him, watching Louis breath the whole ride home. He lets that familiar feeling well up inside his chest. He puts his hand on Louis’s back, feeling the air come in and out, in and out of his body. Rise and fall.

He doesn’t notice Sophia watching them, only inches away, before she turns back to look out the window.  
___________

A couple days later, she comes home laden with shopping bags, and her younger sister trailing behind her.

“Hallo Poz!” Liam calls from the living room floor, where he’s been squashed under the weight of Louis for the past hour.

Portia laughs at him. “What are you doing down there?”

“I’m being held captive.” He giggles when Louis makes a mock-affronted face at him.

Sophia, used to this, simply heads toward the kitchen.

“Babe!” Liam cries out after her. “I’d come help you with the lot, honest, but he’s holding me down. Baaaabe!”

Louis looks up at Portia from where he’s sitting on Liam, and sticks out his hand.

“Excuse me,” He says politely, as if there’s not a fully grown man floundering underneath him. “I don’t believe we’ve met. Louis Tomlinson.”

“It’s a pleasure,” She takes his hand, thoroughly charmed. “You want some help Liam?”

“No, believe me,” says Sophia, who has re-entered the room. “He’s entirely happy where he is.”

There’s a moment where no one says anything, and Liam stops fighting Louis to turn around and look at her. His heart sinks when he sees her expression. She looks deadly serious. Does she know? Has she figured it out?

Louis interrupts the silence. “We’ve made spaghetti,” he announces. He clambers off Liam and heads toward the kitchen to dish it out.

“Fabulous,” Sophia responds, still looking at Liam, before finally breaking eye contact and following Louis.  
____

“I’m headed home,” Louis tells them the next morning.

Portia is still passed out on their bed, where she’d fallen asleep the night before. Sophia had joined her, ordering Liam to take the couch with Louis. As they had laid on the stiff surface of the cushions, practically on top of one another, Louis had grumbled again, “We are multimillionaires, Leemo. Millionaires.”

Liam, still embarrassed from the look Sophia had given him when she’d sentenced him to the sofa, had replied, “No one’s forcing you to stay here, Louis.” He had, of course, instantly regretted it, but when he’d turned around a moment later to apologize, Lou had been asleep. Or at least feigning sleep - his face had looked a little red.

His face looks red now, too.

Sophia doesn’t ask for an explanation. She doesn’t even look up, just continues flipping through her magazine. “Your family missing you, then?” She asks innocently.

She is angry, Liam realizes. He looks toward Louis. Louis just looks sad. Liam had hurt them. At that moment, he wants to cry from sheer frustration. Why couldn’t they all just be happy? Why couldn’t he just love them, unconditionally as he did, without breaking both their hearts? He was tired of feeling guilty. He just wanted to be good. Always, Liam just wanted to be good.

“Louis,” He tries, wanting to fix this. “Can I speak with you?”

Louis nods mutely. Liam knows he would have liked to refuse an apology, to keep his pride, but he’s too tired. They leave the kitchen together, Liam avoiding any pinched expression Sophia might currently wear on her face.

When they reach the hall, Louis turns toward him, and straightens his back. “I am a child of divorce,” he tells Liam.

“What?”

“I am a child of _multiple_ divorces,” Louis continues.

“Okay, Louis, I know. Do you —”

“I don’t want to stay here while you two are fighting, that’s all. And I know Sophia’s mad at me, and I haven’t a clue why, and I know you’re mad at me for upsetting Sophia, but I don’t know what I did and —“ He takes a breath, and quiets his voice. “Don’t like the tension is all, and I get the feeling I’m the one causing it. You’re all stressed, and I’ve got my own stuff right now…” He trails off.

There’s a moment where neither of them say anything, and then Louis adds, “And I really should go see my mum.”

“Louis…” Liam begins, not knowing how to explain it all to him. Louis looks almost pityingly at him.

“I’m just gonna leave, okay, Payno?”

“Yeah, okay.”

Louis turns to leave, but hesitates. He turns back, and in one quick motion wraps a hand around Liam’s neck and pulls him into a hug. Liam is tucked, easily, into Louis, both of Lou’s arms now completely encircling his neck. Liam smiles into his shoulder, knowing, without looking, that Louis is on his tiptoes.

“Liam,” Louis whispers, nose knocking against the side of Liam’s head. He sounds almost urgent. “Come out with me. Just for tonight.”

Liam closes his eyes. He can feel Louis’s lips on the curve of his ear.

“Come out with me.” Louis says again, tugging on Liam’s shirt.

Liam gives in immediately - how could he refuse? He pulls back from Louis a little, just to look him in the eye. He informs Louis, gravely, “I know a place.”

They’re out the door before he remembers his girlfriend, still waiting in the kitchen.

________________

A cab drops Liam off at home in the early hours of the morning. He’s barely drunk, most of the booze worn off by now - only a bitter taste in his throat and slight humming in his head left over. The night had gone by as they always did: Louis quickly making friends and dancing outrageously with them, his voice growing louder with each drink. Liam had watched from the bar, chatting with the bartender, and financing Louis’s over-imbibition. Louis would take laps at the end of each song to check on Liam, sometimes dragging him out for a dance.

By the end, Liam had lost track of him. He’d checked the bathroom, and when he didn’t find Louis slumped in some stall, he decided to leave. As he came out of the bathroom, he’d caught a glimpse of Louis headed out the door, arm slung around some girl. It was always a girl. Liam knew if he rushed, he could catch a goodbye from Louis, but he’d rather avoid a drunken introduction to whoever Louis was taking home to fuck. Sometimes, it was hard even looking at Harry for this reason - they’d all earned Louis’s desire, and it was enough to make Liam feel inadequate, at the least.

Liam decides, as he heads into the house, wondering if Sophia’s awake, that he’s not going to feel guilty this time. He’s going to give himself a break, just this once. He’d done nothing wrong. Even so, he feels nervous as he enters the living room. Maybe he’d made it all up: it was entirely possible that she’d been kidding before, that it had all been a joke.

One look at her tear-streaked face tells him he’s wrong.

When Sophia sees him entering the room, she makes no effort to hide that she’s upset. In fact, she looks steadily at him, almost daring him to comment. When he doesn’t, when he just stares helplessly at her, gaping, she gestures to the laptop on the table.

Tonelessly, she explains, “I’ve been up all night. Been having a bit of a film fest.”

“Oh?” Liam croaks. Sad movies, he thinks, at a last grasp attempt to reassure himself. She might have just been watching _The Notebook_ or something. Or _Up_. Liam had cried at _Up_.

“Yup. Louis and Liam’s greatest hits. There are compilations on Youtube and everything.”

And everything inside Liam comes crumbling apart.

“Poz went home,” Sophia continues. She’s standing up from her armchair now, stretching. Saying something else too, they’re out of some food, maybe juice, Liam doesn’t know —

In the early days, back during X Factor, he remembers Harry would get panic attacks. There was so much pressure, and he was only 16. Liam never did anything, he was only there to witness a few. But he remembers Louis rubbing Harry’s back, offering him his inhaler, whispering words of comfort. Liam could use that now.

It almost feels like he’s over-caffeinated — there’s a buzz running through his body, and he’s properly shaking. “Sophia —” he begins, broken.

She looks sharply at him. “I’m not the jealous type, Liam,” she tells him.

And then Liam’s crying.

“Oh, Liam,” She says, softening. “Don’t go and — I’m supposed to be the victim here.” But she’s reaching out, and she’s guiding him down to the awful couch, tucking him into her.

“Sorry,” he offers, muffled. She holds him, and he briefly rejoices. Maybe, he thinks, I can salvage this relationship by crying. She’ll feel so bad for me, she can’t leave.

But Sophia turns serious again once he gets his breathing back under control. “How long,” she starts, “how long have you been in love —”

Liam pulls back sharply, shocked at the bluntness of her words, and shakes his head wildly. She takes one look at his wide eyes, his heaving chest, and stops.

Now Sophia’s tearing up, slowly, though she doesn’t seem to register it. She makes no move to wipe the tears, looking at him in wonder. “You can’t even talk about it?” She whispers. “Does anyone know?”

Liam nods, miserable, forcing the answer. “Zayn. Niall, I think. My sisters.” He turns away from her. “I can discuss it with Zayn, but not — I, I can’t have a conversation with you about loving someone else, it’s — mean, really, is what it is.”

She turns his head back to face her, soft. “You’re not mean, darling, you’ve never been mean.”

“Darling?” he asks.

She shrugs. “Seemed to fit.”

There’s a silence, and then she tries again: “How long?”

Liam rests his head on her shoulder, so he doesn’t have to look at her. He tries to be brave. “I don’t know. As long as he’s been there.” He pauses. “He’s just so _funny_.”

“I hate to be the one to tell you this, Liam, but he’s not that funny.”

“No,” Liam pulls back and smiles at her, “He is. You just don’t see him.”

“Tell me what he looks like, then.”

Liam knows she’s humoring him, but he wants to explain it to her. “He’s just so big,” he tries, sounding almost in awe. “In my mind, I mean.”

“So you're not cheating on me.”

“No! Sophia —“

“It’s okay. I didn’t really think you were.” She pauses, quiet now. “Would you ever have told me?”

“No. Sophia. Soph — I would have married you.”

Thats what breaks her, and she cries now, hard. Her reaction comes quickly, and angrily. She pushes at his chest, and demands, “Why can’t we? Why can’t you just stop?”

He doesn’t have an answer. He feels a sudden calm from her rage — maybe he’s in shock. He takes her hands in his, stills her. “I wouldn’t have told you,” he says slowly, “because I didn’t want to hurt you.”

“Well look at me, Liam. Look at me. I’m hurt.”

Liam doesn’t look.

“I’m sorry. I’m so - I just wanted to be good,” he tries to explain. “I just wanted to love you, and I wanted him to love me —“

She looks up at this, sharp. “He does.”

No, that’s not right. “Harry,” he reminds her. “He still loves Harry.”

“You’ll just have to exercise some of that famous patience, Payne. He’ll come around. And you’ll be happy, years from now.” She kisses his forehead, the anger gone from her as quickly as it had arrived. “Because he loves you back.”

She’s so kind, she’s so kind to lie to him.

“I love you,” he says. He kisses her. She kisses back briefly, then pushes him away.

“I cannot believe how fucking strong I am being right now,” Sophia laughs. She wipes her face. “C’mon then, sit up straight. I’m going to do this right.”

“What are you —”

“Liam Payne, member of One Direction, international pop star: I am breaking up with you. Not so much because you kept this from me, or even really, that you lied — I have no doubt, Liam, that you’ve always had the purest intentions in your heart. But because, I don’t want to be some obligation for you, or worse, some obstacle for what you really want —”

“I want you,” Liam whispers.

“Liam, you are a saint, truly. You are the best boyfriend — no, you are the kindest guy I have ever met. You’re fucking golden, baby. So I know you agree with me, I know you understand, when I tell you that I deserve more than just half of you.”

“You deserve everything.”

“Okay, Liam, I just called you a saint. Reel it in.”

He grins at her. “You deserve a better couch.”

“I _do_ deserve a better couch.”

“I’ll buy you a couch.”

“You’ll have to get yourself a couch first. An apartment.”

“An -? Fuck.” He hadn’t even considered this.

“Liam!”

“Should I pack? Like, now? I don’t want to—“

“Liam.”

“—I don’t want to leave, Soph. I don’t want to leave you.”

She studies him. “Did you not see this coming, babe? After how long you’ve loved him?”

“I,” Liam clutches at her wildly. It’s starting to set in now - she’s breaking up with him. Sophia has broken up with him. Suddenly, it all feels so urgent. “I just don’t want it to be over. Can I kiss you again?”

She just shakes her head, smiling regretfully.

“Why am I the only one crying?” He pleads. And why did he never prepare himself for this day? She’s right — how did he not see this coming? “Shouldn’t you be crying too?”

“Liam, you’re panicking.” Sophia soothes, and Liam wants to kiss her. Right now, with Louis so far away, none of it feels worth it. _Fuck_ , he thinks, I want to marry her. Why can’t I marry her?

“Why aren’t you panicking? Can you panic too? I’d be much more comfortable.”

“I’ll panic tomorrow. You,” she says, so kind, so kissable, “will be gone by then.”

“Where am I going to go?”

“You’ve got your boys, you’ve got your mum. Don’t pretend you haven’t options. And,” she adds. “Like, half a billion dollars.”

“You’re exaggerating. Can I kiss you?” His hands cup her cheeks, grasping, and his heart feels all stretched out in his chest. He is, he realizes, desperate.

She smiles at him. “I’ll call you,” she promises. “I love you. Go pack.”

And Liam wants to obey, if only to make it all up to her.

“I love you,” he tells her back, straight away. “I’m going to go pack.”

He leaves, heads towards their bedroom. The buzzing's back - he can feel it in his toes. There’s a headache from crying too, and he knows the sadness with return full force tomorrow, heavy and awful — but there’s a lightness in his shoulders now, the kind that only comes with admission. The guilt has been lifted from him. Liam hated lying, hated what had done to both of them.

He packs. He takes her shampoo too, thinking the lavender might comfort him later. He’s going to tell her he’s taking it, as well — he is leaving this apartment with no secrets left between them.

As for where he’s going: he rings Zayn. “You in London?” he asks, knowing the answer.

“Come on over.”

________________________

“So that’s it?”

“That’s it.”

“I’m sorry, mate.” Zayn tells him. Zayn is leaning against the counter. Zayn’s head is green.

“Is your head — okay?” Maybe it was too much chlorine.

He laughs. “My head is fine, Liam.”

“Can you make it — not like that? It’s making me very uncomfortable.”

Zayn ignores him. “You want the couch?”

“Is it a good couch?”

He gets a funny look in response. “Does she know about Louis?”

“She knows about Louis.”

“Not in the mood to talk then?”

“Why else would she have broken up with me?”

Zayn shrugs.

“Perrie on tour?” Liam asks. He glances around. It’s a new apartment.

“Are you — yeah, she’s away. Are you staying here until shows start up again? Or is it more of a pitstop? You have a week left, right?”

“I don’t know. Half a week.”

“You want food? I was gonna meet up with —”

“I think I’m just going to sleep, Zaynie.”

“You wanna sleep?”

“I’m just going to sleep.”

______________

Liam wakes up before Zayn comes back, and he explores a bit. It’s night time, probably around 11 - the place is completely dark, and Liam stubbles around, feeling for a light switch. The place is a lot bigger than Zayn’s last flat, but emptier, too. He hasn’t bought enough furniture yet, and Liam suspects Zayn doesn’t know how to fill up all that space.

He wonders vaguely if he should call his mum, if he should go home. He’d have to tell them if he does - he realizes that, eventually, he’ll have to tell everyone. It won’t be hard to come up with a reason for the split — he’s away most of the time, it’s a miracle that didn’t do it alone — but he’s just worried about the backlash. The vitriol Sophia will be subjected to online.

Liam finally settles on calling Ruth — he was always closest to her — though he fails to actually tell her about Sophia in the end. They don’t speak long, she’s got a wedding to plan anyway. He feels so proud, so sick when he thinks about it.

“I’m so happy for you,” he tells her, like he does every time they talk.

“Liam,” she responds, “you sound like you’re going to burst into tears.”

He was going to propose to Sophia, after Ruth’s wedding, he really was. Liam doesn’t know what he thought was going to happen — 0r did he imagine he’d move on from Louis? He hadn’t considered it, only that he knew that he loved her, that he wanted to marry her.

“Liam,” Ruth says again, “is everything alright?”

“I’ll tell you later,” he promises. He can hear Zayn arriving back, coming up the stairs.

“Liam—”

He doesn’t know why he feels so eager to end the call before Zayn gets in. He thinks that if Zayn sees him on the phone with a family member, then it will be clear how fucked Liam really is over this break up. As he listens to the key turn in the lock, he warns Ruth, “I’m going to hang up on you. I have to go.”

“Fine. I love you.”

“I love you.”

Liam hangs up with relief, just as Zayn comes in the door. And he isn’t alone.

“Hullo,” Niall says thickly, and he lunges forward to hug Liam.

“He wanted to see how you were,” Zayn explains. “I told him what happened, thought you wouldn’t mind.”

“It’s okay,” Liam assures him. Niall’s still clutching on to him. Niall’s a bit drunk.

“It’s real shit what ‘appened to you,” he says earnestly. “I always liked her — I always—” Niall stops, and his eyes widen. “Oh Liam, we’re going to have to share the couch.”

“It’s a very nice couch,” Liam promises him.

Zayn re-enters the room — Liam hadn’t even noticed he’d left — and says, “You take my bed, Ni. You’re knackered.”

Niall lets go of Liam, kisses Zayn on both cheeks appraisingly, and stumbles toward the bedroom. “You’re a prince, Malik,” he calls as he goes. “You’re a goddamn prince.”

Zayn looks toward Liam. “Thought we’d talk,” he explains, after Niall’s gone.

“What else is there?”

“You hungry now?”

Liam nods gratefully.

Once they both are seated with food in front of them — Zayn crisps, Liam a bit of leftover Shepherd’s pie — Zayn furrows his eyebrows.

“What are our categories?” he asks. “There’s you and Sophia, there’s you and Louis… Louis and Harry—”

“You and Louis,” Liam reminds him.

Zayn looks at him, considering. “Would that be easier for you?”

“No, I’m — I’m worried about him.”

“You’re not worried about me?”

“You’re not the one who got hurt.”

“Why—“ Zayn begins, and then stops. “Why couldn’t it have been like you and me, when I left?” He wonders. “Why did he have to take it so, like, personal?”

Liam knows Louis well enough that the answer comes easily to him. “You have to remember Zayn, he’s so loyal, isn’t he? You betrayed that, he felt, when you left. It felt as though you had abandoned him.”

Zayn is quiet for a minute, taking it in. He then glances up at Liam, and shrugs. “It’s a possibility. Like to hear my theory?” He smirks. “I think he’s in love with me. Secretly.”

Liam hits him in the arm. “Hey,” he admonishes. “Listen. You need to —“

“—Talk to him?”

“Yes!” Liam says, frustrated. “But actually do it, Zayn. Admit that you’ve hurt him —“

“Why is this all about him? I’ve lost something, too.”

“You walked away, Zayn. You made that decision.”

“I don’t want to talk about this anymore.”

“No! No, it’s so simple. You hurt someone, you have to face that. That’s — that’s what I did.”

Zayn softens, and takes one of Liam’s hands in his. “You did the right thing, Liam.”

Liam shakes his head. “She broke up with me. I didn’t do anything.”

But Zayn only smiles and says it again, quieter this time, “You did the right thing. I know you — you’ve never done anything that wasn’t right.”

This is untrue, but Liam finds so much comfort in Zayn’s big, proud eyes. There’s never been anything but affection there, and Liam feels lucky just to be at that table, holding his hand.

“What’s the next topic, then?” Zayn murmurs, after a minute or two pass.

Liam shrugs, picks at his pie, and finally brings up what he’s been thinking about all day: “Sophia thinks that Louis might someday —“ his voices falters, and he tightens his grip on Zayn. “Be there. Like I want him to be there.”

“She thinks he’ll love you back?”

“I shouldn’t be focusing on that though. I should be thinking about her —”

“But you’re asking my opinion on it?”

Liam takes another bite of pie in response.

“I’ll tell you what,” Zayn says, and pauses. “You’re very easy to love, Liam.”

“There are different types of love, though.”

Zayn nods, thoughtful. “I don’t know if you’ll ever marry him, if that’s what you’re asking. But I think you have to know, that even now, he loves you so much, Liam.” Liam shakes his head uselessly; he’s welling up a bit. “He loves you so much.”

“I don’t think he knows what to do with himself sometimes, honestly, when he’s around you. You’re, you’re his, you know? You always have been.” Liam lets go of Zayn’s hand, and turns away a bit in his seat. He doesn’t want to look at Zayn while he’s saying these things, but Zayn pushes forward anyway: “He’s got this, this tenderness towards you, always. I don’t know. I guess he figures you belong to him —”

Liam gets up from his seat, and walks to the other side of the room. He’s crying into his hand, trying to muffle it — to him, it seems like almost a pathetic reaction.

“He kind of shaped you, I think.” Zayn is still talking, too deep in his thoughts to fully notice Liam’s reaction. “Like, because he kind of corrupted you, he just latched on. Always fucking touching you, isn’t he? Liam? …Fuck, Liam..”

“No,” Liam sniffs, scrubbing his nose with the back of his hand. “It’s fine, really.”

“Do you want to…” Zayn looks concerned, even bewildered at Liam’s reaction.

Liam looks out the kitchen window, collecting himself.

“No Zayn, I’m tired. Let’s just sleep.”

**Author's Note:**

> Chapter title comes from a Very Important mountain goats song. Series title from a Milosz quote: "Not that I want to be a god or a hero. Just to change into a tree, grow for ages, and not hurt anyone." Ah, Liam.
> 
> Bit of a stilted ending, but I've just hit a block here and thought I might as well post. 
> 
> There'll be a part two, at some point, in the general future.


End file.
